Evening The Playing Field
by BookCrazyyyGirll1995
Summary: For Oliver, another year at Hogwarts is just another season of Quidditch. He's confident that nothing can distract him from winning the House Cup. But what happens when his biggest rival, Marcus Flint, suddenly becomes his friend. Rated M! M/M Slash!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series! Just playing with my favorite characters.**

Hogwarts is same as usual. But Oliver couldn't help but love it. Especially since the start of a new school year also meant a new Quidditch season. That's what really made his time at the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Plus, he had faith in his team this year. They would take the house cup, with no problems. Not even Flint and his team of Slytherins could stop them.

"Alright everyone," Oliver said, using the voice normally reserved for Quidditch, "mount your brooms and let's see what we can do after a summer off." Oliver kicked off from the ground, his team following his lead. He watched his chasers, his beaters and his seekers practice. The first game of the season was next week and every player seemed to have improved. He smiled as he thought of him and his team receiving the house cup at the end of the year.

He looked over at the entrance of the pitch and saw emerald green clashing against the colors of the stands. He landed while his team continued to practice, only to find the Slytherin captain standing there. "Oi Flint!" Oliver said in his unmistakable Scottish accent, "What're you doing here? Need to steal our strategies?" The rest of the team landed to see what the conflict was about. "Ha you think my team needs your strategies?" he retorted, his Irish accent flaring to life, "My team could beat you with their eyes closed, Wood." Oliver rolled his eyes.

"I'll leave Wood," he said, "This time." He turned away and started to make his way back to the castle. "Practice is over." Oliver growled. "You're a right fowl git Flint!" he screamed. The Slytherin just ignored the Gryffindor and kept walking. Oliver, frustrated, couldn't stop himself. He grabbed Marcus' arm and punched him in the face. He stumbled back, clutching his bleeding nose.

"You are dead," Marcus roared. He pulled his fist back to punch Oliver. Wood closed his eyes and waited for the impact that never came. He squinted up at the brute staring down at him. "You're not worth it." He said, a pang of…sadness? No it couldn't be sadness. After all, a guy like Marcus Flint couldn't feel could he? "Ollie, let's go!" came the voice of his best friend, Katie Bell. All he could do was nod and walk.

He felt numb after what happened. He couldn't, for the life of him figure out why a Slytherin wouldn't jump at the chance to harm a Gryffindor. Especially when said Slytherin was captain of the house Quidditch team. He climbed into bed, his mind racing.

He finally got it to shut off for the night, figuring he'd question Flint tomorrow.

And then he slipped into unconsciousness.

**Short, I know, but I really have an idea of where I want this story to go! Just hang in there!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!**

**Enjoy!**

Oliver woke up, the sun streaming in his window. His mind instantly drifted to the events of yesterday. Practice on the Quidditch Pitch, Flint showing up out of nowhere, him punching the older Slytherin in the face and breaking his nose, and finally when Flint had the chance to punch him, but instead just walked away. He groaned, a full-on migraine starting to make itself known.

"Come on, Oliver!" a familiar voice that could only belong to Percy Weasley rang through the dormitory, "We're going to be late for breakfast!" Oliver rolled out of bed and walked over to his trunk. He pulled out a grey t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans and slipped them on, along with his black school robes. He ran his hands through his short, sandy blonde hair and mumble to himself as he made his way down the stairs.

Percy was leaning up against the wall, a worried expression on his face. "Geez, Perce," Oliver said, as he came to a stop in front of the red head, "You could've left without me y'know." Percy nodded and walked towards the hole in the wall, pushing the portrait open. "Isn't the Quidditch game tomorrow?" Percy asked, the head boy keeping his eyes forward. Oliver nodded. "Yeah," he said, "I want the team to get a little more practice today. During free time, we'll get out there and just work on some strategies for tomorrow's game." "You're playing Slytherin?" Oliver nodded again.

He gulped, making sure to keep it silent. He didn't want to talk to Flint today, but he figured he had to. If only to apologize for breaking his nose yesterday, he had to talk to him. When they stepped in the Great Hall, Oliver couldn't help but cast a glance over towards the Slytherin table. Marcus and his friend Adrian were scowling and sneering at him. He just shook his head and took his seat at his table. His stomach grumbled when the food in front of him appeared.

Breakfast was silent, and afterwards, he had to get to class. He had Transfiguration and Defense Against The Dark Arts before free time. He was just happy that Potions wasn't till after practice. For one, he didn't particularly care for Professor Snape and two; he really didn't want to see Flint. Not yet, anyway. He avoided most, if not all contact with the Slytherins as he made his way to the locker rooms to change into his Quidditch robes.

An hour later, he was the last one left in the locker room getting cleaned up after practice. He was sore, no doubt, because one of the bludgers had been accidentally hit towards his stomach. He was knocked off his broom and when Fred and George landed and made his way over to him, he was standing up, brushing sand off his robes. They had apologized over and over, and he finally got them to leave the locker room.

He stepped out of the shower and dried his short hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. He pulled on a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans and put his robes back on. Everything was okay until he heard a voice. "Oi Wood," came the Irish accent of Marcus Flint, "Avoiding me, are you? Well I must say, Bravo. You've done well, mate." Oliver ignored him, continuing to put his robes back into his locker. He realized Flint hadn't moved and turned to face him. "What do you want Flint?" he growled, "Want me to break your nose again? How about your jaw? If not, I suggest you leave."

The threat only made Marcus laugh as Oliver glared daggers at him. "That's rich, Wood," Flint said in between laughter, "I gave you that shot yesterday. Felt bad for you." Oliver cocked an eyebrow. "Why didn't you hit me back?" he asked. Flint growled, "Actually, that's why I'm here." He walked toward Oliver. He truly looked like a predator stalking his prey. When he got close enough, Wood tried to swing at him. His shot missed, giving the Slytherin just enough room to push him back into the lockers and pin him there.

Silence. No hitting, just silence. And just when it appeared Marcus was about to hit him, he had his biggest shock of the day. Maybe his entire life. Marcus closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Oliver's. Shock pulsed through his body as he realized that Flint was kissing him but he eventually responded to the kiss. Marcus let his hands loose and Wood wrapped them around the taller boy's neck. Their lips moved in sync with each other's and for a moment, the world was lost.

When they pulled away, gasping for breath, Flint kept his gaze on the ground. Oliver didn't say anything and Marcus ran for the door, never once looking back.

_What the hell was that? _Oliver thought, shock still making itself present.

**So it's a little longer than the first chapter :D What did ya think? I think the next chapter will have them fighting. Idk yet!**


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